


Things Buried, Things Unearthed

by KaidaShade



Series: Warlords and Weaponsmiths [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark Age, Double Penetration, Exo Anatomy (Destiny), Facts I Just Made Up About How Exos Work, Friendly Bickering, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Non-sexual robot gore, Robot Sex, Temporary Character Death, The fucking comes after, They do not fuck in the cave, Threesome - M/M/M, Weird Uses of Light, non-sexually sticking fingers in wounds, trapped in a cave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23829250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaidaShade/pseuds/KaidaShade
Summary: Banshee doesn't know Lord Saladin all that well, but it's hard not to get to know someone when you and your terrifying Warlord boyfriend are trapped in a hole with them for hours.  If it weren't for a near-fatal injury, Banshee might be lured into getting to know him even better, but unfortunately that encounter will have to wait for a more convenient location.
Relationships: Banshee-44/Saladin Forge, Banshee-44/Saladin Forge/Shaxx (Destiny), Banshee-44/Shaxx (Destiny), Saladin Forge/Shaxx
Series: Warlords and Weaponsmiths [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716991
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I don't know where this came from but I really enjoyed writing the dynamic in Things We Hide, and to be honest Banshee deserves to get lovingly sandwiched between two huge dudes. Part two coming soon.

“You’re quite sure this was the right direction?” Shaxx called over the rising wind, looking back through the flurries of snow to check that his companions hadn’t fallen behind. They made for an odd group; two hulking Risen in imposing armour and a much shorter Exo, all but his glowing eyes covered to protect him from the cold. 

“Entirely sure.” Saladin growled back, trudging along in the rear, “Was the Gunsmith really necessary? I am more than capable of identifying anything of value.”  
“So you say. I trust his judgement far more than yours, as I said the last four times you asked.”

Just like the other four times Saladin had asked, Banshee felt a rush of warmth through his chest at Shaxx’s praise, though privately he agreed with the Iron Lord. The promise of an abandoned Golden Age facility, rich with technology and weapons, had been alluring to him as well as to the Risen, but the weather had taken an unexpected turn and even his systems were struggling to cope with the cold now. 

“Regardless,” Shaxx was saying, his voice booming over the wind, “we must find shelter. We cannot make the peak in this.”  
“Don’t shout! The snow isn’t going to be stable in this-” Saladin stopped abruptly as an ominous rumble shook the ground beneath their feet, and they all looked up in time to see a huge white boulder bouncing towards them. Shaxx reacted fast, leaping to grab Banshee and haul him out of the way as another followed, and another, fire bursting forth as Saladin sliced one with his axe to protect himself and followed them, diving beneath a lee of rock and reaching for Shaxx’s hand just as a wall of white hit them from behind.

Banshee had no idea what happened next, felt only Shaxx’s hard armour at his back and the horrifying, disorientating rush of white and roar of noise, a crack he couldn’t identify and sudden, searing pain before the white turned to grey and then black.

Silence.

Stillness.

Suffocating dark pressing in around him, his thoughts hazy and wavering and a deeply unnatural pressure against his back plating.   
  
No. Through it.   
  
He barely had time to panic through the haze before a flare of light lit up the world white to the right of him and there was a jolt, and he and Shaxx were pulled through a wall of snow into a tiny, tight space with glassy walls and the light of Saladin’s Ghost the only source of illumination. Saladin’s breathing was loud, his arm hanging at an unnatural angle and his hand clamped around Shaxx’s forearm. Banshee followed the arm, glimpsed a splatter of red up against the chestplate and felt something in his gut turn.   
  
Shaxx, he realised abruptly, was not breathing.

The Warlord’s arm was still clamped around him and his Ghost flared into existence above them alongside Saladin’s, who was already working to put her Risen’s shoulder back into place. There was a ripple of warmth as Shaxx’s Ghost opened itself up and the pressure on his back lesseneed, then Banshee felt Shaxx gasp against him and loosen his grip.

“Urgh. That could have gone better.” Shaxx remarked, though this voice was drifting in and out in a concerning sort of way. Banshee couldn’t muster the strength to speak, just made an odd creaking noise and stayed limp against him. He didn’t think he could have moved a limb if he’d wanted to. “Everyone alright? Banshee?” The hand against his chest shifted and he slumped forward, his weight in Shaxx’s palm. “Oh no. No no no, stay with me.”   
“What is it?” Saladin’s voice came from very far away.   
“That shard must have gone through me and hit him. Look.” There was a chill against Banshee’s face as Shaxx moved him so that he sprawled on his chest across the Warlord’s knees. He knew he must be in a bad way, because he saw no reflection of his eye lights in the icy wall. “Looks like it sheared the connections to his power supply.”   
“Is there anything you can do?” He felt Saladin kneel next to him, a hand on his chest to hold him steady for Shaxx.   
“Something to try...” Shaxx’s fingers felt alien as they slipped past the torn edge of his plating, but Banshee was powerless to resist. The tingle that followed was familiar, then a stronger surge forced a burst of static and a roar of fans out of him, made his spine arch and his fingers curl. Shaxx dialled it back a little and he groaned.   
  
“Banshee, can you hear me?”   
“Mmmnhh…”   
“Well, he isn’t dead…”   
“Shut up, Forge.”   
“What’re you doing?” Banshee tried to turn, to twist and see what was happening, but Shaxx’s other hand landed on his shoulder.   
“I wouldn’t move if I were you. Just a little trickle of Arc to keep you running until we can get you back and repaired.” The relief in Shaxx’s voice was palpable, and Banshee thanked his past self for allowing the Warlord to observe the last time he’d needed maintenance. His mind was already clearing, which came with the unfortunate side-effect of being very aware of the gaping hole in his back and the fact that that really should have killed him. 

_ It's not you,  _ he thought to himself.  _ It's just a machine that you need to explain to him. _

"Thanks. There's an emergency backup in my head but it's barely enough to keep me conscious. Just a battery. Dunno how long it'd last. Might not work too well in this cold either."

"Well, best we don't have to find out, then." 

Shaxx carefully adjusted his hold to let Banshee sit upright, tucked against his side where his fingers could keep contact with the frayed wires inside of him. The movement felt like the physical equivalent of adjusting a speaker jack, random bits of sensation and twitches of movement shooting through his body.

"That is immensely disturbing to watch." Saladin remarked. Banshee looked at him, one eye flickering slightly as Shaxx settled his hand in a comfortable position.

"Yeah? Try living it."

For a moment he thought he might have gone too far, but Shaxx snorted beside him and gestured to the Iron Lord.

"Come closer. I'm sure you make a good space heater, and we need to keep him warm.

Saladin hadn't taken his helmet off, but Banshee could almost feel the scowl as he shuffled around their tiny space and pressed up against Banshee's other side. Even through his armour he was incredibly warm, and there was something about being gently squashed between two gigantic men that made for a wonderful distraction. 

"Thanks." He mumbled. He'd put the odd distortion in his voice down to pain if he was asked. 

Shaxx was quiet for a moment or two before speaking. "So, could an Exo live if you cut their head off? With the auxiliary power?" It wasn't the strangest question he'd ever asked, though Saladin seemed to be giving him a weird look.

"Don't know. Haven't been too keen to find out."

"Hmm. I'll have to experiment on Felwinter. Without crushing his skull in the process. May I borrow your axe, Saladin?"

"Ask him first." Saladin's sigh was a long-suffering one.

"Of course. I'd never separate a man from his head without due warning."

"You-"

"I told him to leave. That's due warning enough."

Saladin's Ghost flickered into being before them, distracting from the conversation. 

"Did you find out how far down we are?"

_ "A few metres. I think the snow has settled but the blizzard is in full swing. We might be better off down here for now, at least if you don't run out of air…" _

"We can do something about that. Do we still have that long-range radio? With the antenna?"

 _"We do."_ A flash, and the device was in Saladin's hand, a squat box with a long, collapsible antenna attached. He grasped it and started extending it upwards, and Banshee spotted the faint red glow of hot metal at the end before it disappeared into the roof of the cavern with a sizzle and drip. It always surprised him, some of the ways that the Risen used their Light. He supposed Saladin must have formed this cavern in a similar way. 

It took a couple of minutes before they had a functional hole in the ceiling, through which the occasional snowflake drifted. It wasn't quite so warm, but Shaxx seemed to breathe a little easier next to him as Saladin settled back down. "So, what, we wait for the storm to pass and dig ourselves out?"

"I don't think you'll be doing much digging, Banshee. " Shaxx sighed.

"Probably not."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not much we can do if it does, is there?" The pain had receded to a dull ache that was more like the warning lights on a vehicle console than actual pain, trying to tell him he was in trouble without making it too intrusive.  
“Other than providing a distraction I suppose.” Shaxx dipped his head to bonk his helmet against the top of Banshee’s head, the closest they ever got to kissing in public. Banshee tilted his head into it, his eyes closing just for a moment.

“You two are…” Saladin interrupted the moment, and Banshee heard Shaxx huff.  
“Not as nosy as you, I would think,” he muttered, “but yes. We have a relationship.”   
“Oh. Did Shaxx...”   
“Don’t worry,” Banshee leaned his head against Shaxx’s arm, tired despite the Arc thrumming through his wires, “I know what you two did, and I don’t mind. Never expected him to myself.”

“Perhaps once you’ve healed you should join us.” Shaxx teased, and Banshee felt his fans whir in response. That was almost certainly a bad idea; both Risen were immensely strong, and he’d seen them fight each other, knew how competitive they could be. He had no doubt that that would translate to the bedroom. He got very distracted thinking about how it might be to be between them, and it took him a few attempts to formulate a response.

  
“Maybe try making that joke when I don’t need your hand inside me to live.”   
Shaxx laughed, and Saladin made a choking noise and looked away. The warmth against Banshee’s side increased, and he supposed it made sense that Solar wielders would blush with their entire being. 

“You’ve gotten brave. I love that.” Shaxx remarked, though Banshee suspected that he was enjoying Saladin’s discomfort more than anything. “What’s the matter Forge, don’t you think you can handle both of us?”

“I’m more concerned that you’ll break your partner trying to live up to me.”

“I think not, Banshee is remarkably sturdy. It’s been several years and I’ve not broken him once.”

It should probably worry him that Shaxx was proud of that, but Banshee couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so safe as he did with him these days.

There was quiet for a while before Saladin spoke again. “How do Exos-”  
“Don’t” Shaxx growled, cutting him off a moment after he cut himself off. A slight surge in the Arc output from his fingers made Banshee spasm for a moment and Shaxx dialed it back instantly with an apologetic murmur. “I’m sorry.”   
“It’s okay. He can ask if he wants. Not the first time and won’t be the last.” And hey, answering questions like they weren’t about himself was a good distraction. Saladin composed himself, glancing at Shaxx like he expected a rebuke.   
“How does sex work for Exos? Does it even feel good to you?”   
“Pretty much the same way it works for anyone else.” Banshee shrugged, “And… well, yeah, or we wouldn’t do it. You never thought to ask Lord Felwinter about this?” 

“I’ve never spent hours trapped in a hole with him and his lover.”

“Fair point.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already fucked him.” Shaxx remarked after a few moments’ thought, and Saladin squinted at him.  
“What makes you think I would?”   
“Hmm, you’re right. I’m surprised he hasn’t fucked you. He’s stubborn enough. Or does he only lust after Warlords?”   
“You think he lusts after you?”   
“Naturally. What else could his repeated failures to convert me be except terrible flirting?”   
“You’re ridiculous.” Saladin shook his head in exasperation and drew his legs up, trying to conserve a little more heat.

“You should tell him he’s doing it wrong. If he wants my attention he has to actually hit me.”  
“Shut up Shaxx.”

“Banshee thinks I’m funny, don’t you dear?”  
“You can’t ask his opinion while you’re keeping him alive.”

Banshee ducked his head and held up a hand in surrender. “Don’t drag me into this. Risen gossip is way above my pay grade.”  
“Hmph. Fine.” Shaxx sounded a little put out, but Banshee suspected he was only teasing. He didn’t take his hand away at least, and that was the important part. Not that Banshee thought he would kill him over something so petty, of course. Not anymore. He’d learned better than to think so little of Shaxx.   
He was comfortable enough with him even that when the two Risen remained quiet for a few more minutes he dozed off, his mind deciding that unconsciousness was preferable to the ache in his back and the weird tingling sensations through his limbs every time Shaxx’s power fluctuated.   
  
When he woke, he was leaning against an armoured torso that was unfamiliar. It probably said a lot about his life that he could distinguish the feeling of Shaxx’s armour under his cheek from someone else’s, he thought, and he lifted his head to find himself cuddled into Saladin. The hand curled into the wound on his back wasn’t Shaxx’s either, since the Warlord appeared to have half disappeared into the ceiling of their cave. Saladin glanced down and Banshee went very still, unsure quite what to say.   
“His Light was running low, so I took over while he started digging us out.” He explained, “I’m sorry, I know it probably isn’t comfortable, I’m not quite as proficient with Arc as he is.”   
“Better than being dead. Thanks.”   
“He’s awake?” Shaxx called, voice echoing in the hole followed by the chirrup of his Ghost.   
“Yes. He seems fine. For a given value of it.” Saladin replied. A flurry of snow followed as Shaxx extracted himself, shaking the powder and damp from his horns.   
“Good!” Shaxx turned to Banshee, and the Exo had gotten good enough at reading his voice to hear the grin behind the helmet, “I thought I’d get started on getting us out of here, since the storm seems to have quieted. And dumped quite a bit more snow on us. But we’ll manage. How do you feel?”   
“‘Bout the same. Wondering how we’re gonna get back, to be honest.”   
  
“I can carry you if I have to.” Shaxx assured him as he stuck his upper body back in the hole and the sound of something metal chipping at ice and snow resumed.   
“And when he gets tired, I can take over.”   
“I shan’t get tired! Not when my beloved’s life is on the line!”   
  
Banshee felt his fans kick up at the declaration. Apparently Saladin felt it too, and the quiet chuckle from inside his helmet was strangely appealing. “That’s very sweet. So much for the dread Warlord front.”   
“I don’t need to front for either of you.” Shaxx huffed, a huge lump of snow landing in the chamber with a soft ‘fwump’ noise and wriggling a little before his Ghost popped out of it. Saladin snorted as it zipped back up into the hole immediately, chirping obscenities at its Risen.   
  
Shaxx slowly dug his way out of sight, hauling himself up into the hole to keep digging upwards once he couldn’t reach any further with what turned out to be Saladin’s axe. It was an impressive show of strength, and watching Shaxx hold himself up by jamming his feet against one side of the hole and his back against the other, thighs flexing, was very distracting for Banshee. It was hard to tell if Saladin was equally affected with the helmet, but he was pretty sure the Iron Lord was looking and he had to rein in his Light every now and again when fluctuations started making Banshee’s limbs twitch uncomfortably.

It took an hour or so before light streamed into the hole suddenly and Shaxx dropped back down, flattening the pile of snow that had accrued beneath. “Made it!” he declared triumphantly before striding over to crouch and bump his helmet against Banshee’s face in greeting. “Still feeling alright?”  
“As good as can be expected, yeah. Dunno how I’m gonna get out though…”   
“Oh, I can jump that high and hold you.” Shaxx said, like launching himself several metres into the air was a totally normal thing to be able to do. Maybe for Risen it was. He nodded, and Shaxx leaned in to scoop him up bridal-style, his hand slotting into place against Saladin’s and carefully taking over the feed of Arc into Banshee’s systems as he picked him up. The two Risen exchanged a glance that was utterly unreadable- indeed, Banshee wondered if either of _them_ could tell anything from it through the helmets- then Shaxx carried him over to the hole, gathered him close, and _leapt._

Banshee didn’t even have a gut anymore and he was pretty sure he left it down the hole. They shot up out of the hole, then gently drifted down with a soft puff of force that scattered the snow as Shaxx’s feet touched the ground. “Alright?” He asked, the hint of a laugh in his voice. Banshee realised he’d grabbed on around his neck in a death grip, but he still took several seconds to make himself let go. Why was Shaxx like this? Why was that casual show of power so hot, even after years of knowing him?  
“Yeah. Just fine.” He managed, his voice only glitching out a little as he fought to keep it neutral. Shaxx put him down very carefully, keeping his hand on his back to let him attempt to walk for himself at the least. Banshee steeled himself to stand, looking over as Saladin also propelled himself out of the hole and drew level with them.   
“Are you going to continue being alright?” Saladin remarked.   
“No promises.” Banshee said, flexing his hands for a moment before taking one step, then two, then stumbling as the power input fluctuated. Two sets of large, armoured hands lunged to catch him and set him on his feet, and under better circumstances he thought that would be pretty nice. He sighed, leaning back into Shaxx’s hand a bit. “Fuck.” He said, with great feeling, “Sorry, didn’t plan on being such a burden when I agreed to come.”   
“Don’t apologise. I brought you out here. I’ll bring you home.” Shaxx promised, picking him up again like he wasn’t far heavier than a human his size would be.   
  


Getting down the mountain was, at least, slightly easier than coming up. The snow was deeper but the weather had cleared up, and Banshee didn’t have to feel quite as bad about being carried. Their luck, however, didn’t hold. Apparently they weren’t the only ones who had heard about the cache at the top of the mountain. Shaxx ducked behind a rock suddenly and Banshee heard the voices a moment later, two men arguing over the benefits of Void versus Solar. He and Saladin exchanged an inscrutable glance and then Banshee found himself being handed over, while Shaxx clambered up the rock.  
  
A moment of quiet, then a shout from the other side of the rock and the sounds of a scuffle. One man bolted in the other direction and the other rolled into view, wrestling with Shaxx who had his legs hooked around his neck and seemed to have dragged him to the ground through bodyweight alone. There was a snap as Shaxx twisted his body and the other Risen went limp. Saladin sighed, unimpressed.   
“You have a gun, Shaxx.”   
“This way I won’t hit his Ghost. Hm. Banshee, are you alright? Have you frozen up?”   
  
Banshee realised he was staring, his mouth hanging open slightly, and he shook himself. “Yeah. I uh… what’re you gonna do with him?”   
“Warn him off, of course.” Shaxx said, releasing the body and moving to strip it of its weapons and toss them away into the snow. He moved to plant himself on its chest, a knee on either forearm to restrain it, then cleared his throat. “You can come out now. I won’t harm you, I swear. Warlord’s honour.”   
A Ghost flickered into existence a few feet away, its shell spinning warily as Shaxx beckoned it closer. “You can raise him, if you’d like. I just want a word.”   
The Ghost complied, its shell unfurling for a moment. Banshee watched, fascinated, as the Risen’s head slowly cracked back into place and he took a gasping breath. He struggled for a moment before realising he was trapped and focusing his gaze on Shaxx.   
“Do I have your attention? Good. Who do you and your cowardly friend serve? Speak quickly, before I get bored of you.”   
  


The Risen made an odd, staticky noise that Banshee recognised only too well as an Exo struggling to work their vocaliser, and it took him a moment to sort himself out. “No-one! We- we’re new, It’s only been a couple of months, we thought the structure at the top looked easy to defend, we didn’t mean to interfere…” He tailed off as Shaxx hooked his fingers into the bottom of his helmet and pulled it off, revealing a wide-eyed metal face.  
“Do you know something?” Shaxx said thoughtfully, letting the helmet dangle from his hand and examining it. It was a battered, rusted thing, and Banshee suspected it was scavenged rather than made for him. All of the Risen’s armour looked like that, in fact. “I believe you. Come on, get up.” He stepped back off of the Exo and held out a hand, which he hesitantly took and pulled himself to his feet. “If you’re new to the Light, you’re hardly going to be a threat to us, and someone ought to teach you the proper way to behave. I am Lord Shaxx, this is Lord Saladin and Banshee-33.” He gestured, and Saladin nodded while Banshee gave a slightly awkward wave.   
  
The Exo didn’t seem to know quite how to respond, just looking between the three of them for a moment before nodding. Banshee thought he understood; the whiplash of going from a man murdering you to him deciding that you were his student now must have been confusing. “Mach-8.” He said, “I mean, that’s me. My friend is Vetra but… I don’t know where he went.”   
“Probably still running. Don’t worry, we’ll pick him up if we see him.” Shaxx patted him on the shoulder and handed his helmet back, then started heading off down the mountain again. “Come on then! We’ll run out of daylight if we linger too long!”   
  
Mach was a quiet companion, and though they did eventually find his friend he took one look at Shaxx and decided he wasn’t getting involved with all of this. The rest of the way back was uneventful, though Banshee could all but feel the young Risen’s curiosity about him. He was, after all, very obviously unarmed and unarmoured and being carried to boot. But he didn’t ask, and Banshee didn’t offer the information, and the surprise on his face when Saladin handed him back to Shaxx and he leaned up to bump his mouth against the Warlord’s helmet was deeply amusing.   
  
Shaxx brought him to their mechanic while Saladin dealt with the newbie, laying him carefully on his stomach for the other man to examine and explaining as best he could what had happened.   
“You’re going to have to take your hand out of there for me to see,” the mechanic remarked, not entirely unsympathetic. Banshee turned his head, saw Shaxx hesitate.   
“It’s okay. It’s not gonna be nice, but I’ll be fine. Probably got a couple days on the battery now we’re out of the cold.”   
“Won’t take that long. I just have to re-solder the connection to your power supply, you got lucky that it missed the vital bits.”   
“Think we all did. Those things probably explode if you break ‘em too hard.” Not that Banshee had ever tried, mind you. He wasn’t sure how he knew that either, but he supposed if he could know things about guns from a past life then knowing things about his own kind wasn’t too much of a stretch.   
“If you’re sure… of course. You’re stuck like this otherwise.” Shaxx sighed and carefully removed his hand.   
  
It really wasn’t pleasant at all, his limbs instantly going limp and the fans cycling down, leaving him looking for all the world like he was dead. Shaxx moved to sit by his head and he saw the Warlord’s massive hand gently fold around his fingers, but he felt nothing. He might have panicked, but whatever parts of his brain controlled his emotions seemed to be running on minimum right then as well. His sense of time twisted, and it seemed like forever and no time at all before he felt his fans all come on in a rush and his hand spasmed in Shaxx’s grasp, an odd clicking noise coming from his vocaliser before he got it under control. “Think… think that worked.”   
“Thank fuck for that,” The mechanic wiped his brow and sat back, watching as Banshee pushed himself to sit up and scrutinising the hole in his back. “Gonna take some time to patch the hole, but at least everything else seems to be fine. You gonna do better if you take some time to do people things first or should I just get it over with?”   
  
If it wasn’t for the nagging wrongness in the back of his skull, the spike of discomfort every time he caught sight of his own hands, he might have said to do it now. But it wasn’t worth the risk, not when he had something to lose by being reset now. “Lemme get back to you on it. I’ll change my shirt and it’ll be fine for now. Not like I gotta worry about getting dirt in the wound, right?”   
“Guess not. Alright, see you - uh, my Lord?”   
  
The mechanic didn’t even get a chance to finish speaking before Shaxx had scooped Banshee right off his table, startling a raspy feedback noise from the Exo. “I’ll take care of him until then.” He assured him, then set off down the corridor despite Banshee’s attempts to wriggle.   
“I can walk.”   
“I know. Indulge me? I almost lost you.”   
“You actually died.”   
“That doesn’t matter quite so much.”

Banshee sighed and settled in. Admittedly, it was kind of nice being carried around, and he let himself be taken to Shaxx’s room and set down on the bed, with Shaxx promising to bring food. He kept his word, returning with a tray of various baked goods and a bottle that smelled like paint thinner when he opened it. “I would have gotten something a little more sophisticated, but I haven’t managed to find someone who can make anything other than moonshine just yet.” Shaxx admitted, and Banshee chuckled.  
“Trying to get me drunk?”   
“Thought it might help you to… you know. Be more comfortable.” He waved the bottle vaguely and set it down so he could shed his armour before climbing onto the bed with him and settling down where Banshee could easily lean in and rest against his broad chest. “But to be honest, I’m not sure I recommend drinking it for pleasure. It’s fairly dreadful. The bread is good though.”   
  
Banshee wondered just when Shaxx had actually had a chance to eat any of it, with his refusal to take his helmet off where anyone might see, but he didn’t feel the need to ask. The warmth of Shaxx’s body, the taste and texture of bread and yes, even the awful burn of the one gulp of moonshine that he dared to swallow helped to ground him and make him feel more like himself, and even for an Exo the stuff was strong enough to dull the edges of his mind. He found himself half laying on Shaxx, and the Warlord seemed entirely happy to let him, one arm around him. His attempts to feed him morsels of the food mostly failed because at that angle more fell through his cheek than he was able to actually swallow, but the effort made him laugh anyway. Shaxx eventually gave up with a huff and settled for stroking the back of his neck.   
  
“You should probably take this off.” He said, plucking at the neck of Banshee’s shirt.   
“Why?”   
“You have rather a lot of my blood all over it. Sorry about that.”   
“Huh… didn’t notice.” He shifted, trying to strip it off to get a look without removing himself from Shaxx. It took some fumbling, but once he’d managed he held it up to look and winced. It really was a lot of blood, and a sizeable hole through the fabric. “Fuck. You know what, I can live with a ruined shirt. You saved my life. Don’t know how to repay you for that.” He said, letting the shirt fall to the floor by the bed to avoid getting anything on the sheets. He needed to distract himself from that thought, “Got some ideas though.”   
“You don’t owe me any- oh-” Shaxx began, only to cut himself off when Banshee’s hand slid down to squeeze him through his pants. “I see. Well. Clearly you’re feeling better.”   
“You’re good for me, obviously.” 

Banshee slung a leg over him and pushed himself up to straddle Shaxx’s thighs, running his hand up over his stomach. Even through the thin underlayer that he still wore he could pick out the hard lines of muscle, the delicious way they flexed as Shaxx gasped and arched his back to push into his touch. He closed his eyes to focus on that, moving up to trace pectorals and rub his thumbs over nipples that were already hard through the shirt. He wanted to kiss him but he had to settle for nuzzling into his neck, arching into Shaxx’s touch as the Warlord’s broad hands found his shoulders, the ridge of his spine where the intricate plates were especially sensitive. Shaxx knew him so well by now, knew where to touch him to make him shiver and make his fans spin up, knew just when to roll his hips up against the hard plane of Banshee’s stomach to make him perfectly aware of just how appealing Shaxx found him. 

That was a thrill in itself; he didn’t think he would ever get tired of Shaxx wanting him, not when he was so gentle and respectful about it. Even when he reached down to cup his ass there was no force, no demand, and Banshee indulged himself with a few moments more of stroking that gorgeously muscled chest before he let his hands trail down to hook into the waist of Shaxx’s pants and peel them down, slow enough to tease. His cock was warm as it was freed under his hands, and Shaxx moaned as he rocked his hips to grind it against Banshee’s abdomen. Banshee could almost hear him biting his lip within the helmet, trying against his very nature to be quiet. He wouldn’t have him any other way.  
  
He kept his face against Shaxx’s neck, catching the high collar of the undershirt in his jaws and tugging on it playfully as his fingers wrapped around his thick shaft in a long, slow drag from base to tip. Shaxx’s groan was music to his ears, the squeeze of his hands on his ass making him shiver as the Warlord’s fingers crept to his waistband, trying to undress him without interrupting him. He always underestimated just how sensitive Banshee was, seemed surprised when the Exo shifted his hips into his touch to encourage him and twisted his wrist at the end of the stroke to make him moan. His pants didn’t stay on for long after that, and Shaxx wasted little time groping around on his bedside for the lube he’d quickly learned to keep there. Something actually intended for sex, rather than the gun oil that had been their backup plan.

Banshee pressed his face into Shaxx’s shoulder to muffle a staticky plea as Shaxx’s thick, callused fingers breached him, two at once. He had learned, too, that Banshee wasn’t made of glass and that though he wasn’t immortal he could more than handle what Shaxx liked. There was no haste to Shaxx’s movements, fingers stretching him open and slicking him up while his other hand ran up his back, carefully avoiding the hole in the plating and setting his senses alight with that light tingle of Arc that Banshee had come to associate with bliss at his hands. Banshee shuddered and melted against him, trying to press those fingers deeper into him and stroking him faster to egg him on. 

At least until Shaxx gasped and caught his wrist, his cock throbbing with want but his self-control steely. “Don’t finish me too soon, my dear.” He breathed, and Banshee couldn’t resist giving him one final squeeze that made him moan and pull the Exo’s wrists up over his head. “Is this alright?” He asked, reconsidering as Banshee squirmed in his grip.  
“Fuck yeah it is.” he managed, though his voice glitched slightly on the last words. Shaxx’s strength had been arousing ever since he’d learned not to fear it, and to be held up like that, to be displayed for Shaxx’s eyes only while he was spread over his lap, hard and wanting… 

He never felt as desirable as Shaxx made him feel. The Warlord sat up, fingers sliding free to grip his thigh instead as he gently manhandled him into his lap. “Good. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of having you like this.” Shaxx breathed, his helmet close enough to Banshee’s face for him to lean in and press his mouth to it, silly as it seemed. He wished he could kiss him, feel the warmth of his scarred lips as Shaxx let him slowly sink onto his thick cock and filled him with the tingling pleasure of his Light. He relaxed in his grip, letting him have control as Shaxx’s free hand went around his waist, holding him close as his hips met Banshee’s ass and he ground into him, as though there was any deeper to be had. Banshee’s head fell back with a metallic groan, fingers curling in Shaxx’s grasp as his fans roared. The Warlord gave him only a moment before lifting him again, taking his weight around his waist to give himself more room to thrust into him, slow and deep. Every move set sensors alight as his body squeezed around Shaxx, drawing breathless moans and curses from within that inscrutable helmet that only encouraged him to do it more.  
  
“You’re going to be the death of me.” Shaxx said between gasps, pulling Banshee flush against his chest and gripping his wrists a little tighter, to the point that it might have been uncomfortable for a human. Banshee just chuckled, the sound glitched and broken but genuine nonetheless, and Shaxx shuddered and allowed a ripple of Arc to course through him, startling a feedback screech from Banshee’s vocaliser as his body arched.   
“Cheating…” He gasped, his vision whiting out for a moment. Shaxx had said he was close, but those sorts of tricks would drag Banshee to the edge with him all too quickly. He didn’t want this to end, not when every shift of Shaxx’s hips sent jolts of pleasure up his back and deep into his systems.   
  
It had to though, and it seemed Shaxx was determined to finish him as he picked up the pace, rocking into him with renewed vigour and barely bothering to contain his Light, the delicious prickle of it dancing across his plating everywhere they touched and reducing him to a glitching, staticky mess. One final surge and he was done, his vision shorting out as Shaxx shouted his name and hilted himself, spilling deep inside him as his body clamped down and he gave an inhuman cry before collapsing in the Warlord’s grasp. Shaxx held him through it, his panting breath loud enough in Banshee’s ears to be heard over his own fans and the buzzing of his systems rebooting, despite the helmet.   
  
Gently, Shaxx allowed him to lower his arms and let go of his wrists, hand coming up to stroke his shoulders as he laid back and drew him down with him. “I love you.” He murmured, and Banshee made an odd noise and buried his face in his neck, overwhelmed with the tenderness in his voice.   
“Love you too.” He rasped, perhaps a little embarrassed that it came out gruff rather than as genuine as he meant it to be. Shaxx just chuckled softly and let him cuddle into his side, his arm around him while Banshee threw a leg over his thigh and got comfortable on his good side, so that the hole in his back wouldn’t get aggravated.   
“Do you want to stay?” he offered.   
“If you don’t mind?” Banshee glanced up at him, reached up to tap his fingers against a horn.   
“I’ll turn off the lights. I trust you not to peek. Especially not when I’ve just tired you out.”   
“Hm. Then I won’t, promise.” Banshee mumbled, and Shaxx chuckled again. There was a soft shimmering sound as his Ghost was summoned, and a faint grumble as it drifted off to get the lights, then they were in darkness and there was only the warmth of Shaxx’s body and the weight of his arms around him, and it was easy to drift off into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days passed, during which Banshee didn’t see Shaxx or Saladin all that much. The Warlord seems to have taken to his new teaching role with the kind of enthusiasm he hurled at anything that interested him, and occasionally Banshee would hear panicked yelling or bellows of encouragement or just the crackle and thunder boom of Shaxx’s Arc Light as he passed a door. He almost felt sorry for Mach-8, but when he did see the other Exo he seemed to be happy if a little battered and exhausted. His scavenged armour was utterly destroyed within the first day, which Banshee wasn’t surprised by, but next time he saw him it had been replaced with a mismatched collection of pieces cast off from Shaxx’s and Saladin’s spares. He even spotted a few pieces he recognised from Felwinter and Efrideet, who were far less involved with the newcomer.    
  
He caught up with them next when Shaxx called him into what he had affectionately dubbed the war room, where a second copy of Shaxx’s map of the local area was spread out on the table with various markers stuck in it, mirroring the one on his bedroom wall. He and Saladin stood either side of it, considering the area around the mountain and plotting routes. “I think our route was fine.” Shaxx remarked as Banshee entered, his hands planted on the table. He looked up and beckoned enthusiastically, and Banshee wandered over. “What do you think? We were going to try tackling the peak again, now that the weather is clearing a little. We’d still like your input on anything we find there but I’d understand if you have reservations about the journey.”   
  


“I’ll come. Least we know what to look out for now.” Banshee nodded, barely hesitating. He’d taken the opportunity to get his back fixed in the interim, and he trusted Shaxx not to make the same mistakes twice. “Just us again?”   
“More is just more risk, potentially. None of the other Iron Lords are particularly interested.” Saladin shook his head, and Shaxx diverted his attention to him.    
“I’m not so sure. We would be dead if only the two of us had gone.” Shaxx pointed out, and moved around the table past Banshee to get to a different part of the map. His hand rested lightly on Banshee’s back as he passed, as if checking that he was whole again, and Banshee found himself shifting into the touch for the moment that it lasted.    
  
“Fair point.” Saladin said, his eyes on the map and very deliberately not looking at the two of them. Banshee wondered what he’d missed as Saladin leaned over and tapped the map. “But regardless, I think this might be a better route. It’s a little steeper but there’s less snow. Less chance of avalanche.”   
“And more chance of encounters with other Risen. That side of the mountain is the border of my territory and you haven’t gotten around to menacing my neighbours, yet.”   
“Does that frighten you, Lord Shaxx?” Saladin glanced up and raised an eyebrow at him, and Shaxx’s fingers slowly curled against the table.   
“I have no doubt I could defeat them, or else this would be their territory. It isn’t  _ my _ safety that concerns me.” Shaxx’s helmet tilted towards Banshee.   
  


Banshee opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by an insistent beeping from somewhere in his pockets. He fumbled, grabbing the communicator that was alerting him and stepping back from the table out of the Risen’s way. He huffed as he read the message.   
“Something wrong?”    
“Yeah. Martine messed with something on one of the turrets and it backfired. Nobody’s hurt but she needs my help fixing it. I’ll let you know if it’s gonna take me more than half an hour?”   
“Of course, go ahead.” Shaxx gestured him towards the door, and as he left he heard the conversation start up again, caught just the tail end of Shaxx making a comment and Saladin starting to raise his voice as the door shut behind him.

Fixing the gun didn’t take that long, surprisingly. There hadn’t been much damage, just a lot of smoke and noise and a shell that had to be very, very carefully extracted to avoid it going off. He got Mach to help him with that, the young Risen keen to be of use since Shaxx had apparently banned him from leaving the compound until he was better trained. Everyone else backed up while Banshee guided him through it, but fortunately it proved unnecessary and nobody got themselves exploded. A little recalibration, some carefully-applied oil and a gentle scolding of the young woman involved later, and he was certain that it wouldn’t happen again. He pocketed his tools and headed back to the war room, not wanting to waste the time going back to his workshop when he’d already inconvenienced the Risen.

He couldn’t hear anyone bellowing through the door when he returned so he assumed that things had either not escalated or calmed down. There were no guards to ask; why bother guarding a room that contained the two people in the keep most able to defend themselves? He pushed the door open with his shoulder, already halfway through announcing himself before he looked up and froze, taking a moment to comprehend what he was seeing.

Saladin met his eyes, alarm crossing his face briefly. Shaxx looked at him upside-down, sprawled on his back on the map table as he was, with Saladin’s arm barred across his bare throat. There was a lot of him bared, in fact, only the helmet remaining of his distinctive armour. Banshee couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing down to where the Warlord’s leg hooked over Saladin’s hips- equally naked- and back up to Saladin’s startled face. Meeting was over, then. “Should I uh… leave you to it?” He managed, his voice a little distorted as his vents flared.

“Banshee!” Shaxx sounded delighted to see him and far too composed for a man with someone else’s cock buried in him, “We… got a little heated in our disagreements. I think we’ve resolved them. Care to join us?”

Banshee considered for a moment, then very slowly closed the door behind him and locked it. It felt like the setup to a bad porn movie, but how often did you get a chance like this? He vented slowly to steady his nerves and approached them, Saladin finally relaxing a little and daring to release his grip on Shaxx’s neck. He moved like someone releasing a large, dangerous animal that might turn around and attack him, but Shaxx seemed content to stay where he was and reach for Banshee as he came around the table, catching hold of the hem of his shirt with his fingertips. “Up here, dear, the table is more than sturdy- ah! Sturdy enough. Hold still, Forge.” Closer like this, he could hear the slight unevenness to Shaxx’s breathing, the effort that went into keeping himself coherent.   
  
Saladin growled softly as Banshee shed shirt and scarf in one motion, somehow miraculously not tangling himself up in the fabric, and as he sat up on the edge of the table and bent to rid himself of his boots he felt the Iron Lord’s eyes drinking him in, almost as present as Shaxx’s hand teasing its way up his spine and distracting him. He kicked off a boot with more force than he intended, bouncing it off the floor, and the other followed swiftly after. His cock had already unsheathed by the time he got his pants off and Shaxx groaned eagerly as he climbed up, a hand going to his ass under the pretense of steadying him as he swung a leg over. “And I thought my afternoon could not get any better.” Shaxx teased, leaning up to let Banshee kiss his helmet.    
“You’re spoiled.” Saladin rumbled, rolling his hips to make him arch and curse and reaching out to brush a hand against Banshee’s waist, “May I?”    
“Go ahead,” he nodded, letting the Iron Lord wrap his arm around and place his hand on his chest to nudge him upright, Shaxx’s cock hard against his ass as warm, soft lips pressed to the back of his neck. He shivered, letting his head fall forward so that Saladin could have his way while Shaxx’s hands started trailing up his thighs with a steady, firm pressure. It should have been intimidating, to be between these two forces of nature, a mortal pinned between fire and lightning incarnate, but Saladin was a warm ember at his back and Shaxx a tingle of potential across his plating that had him fully hard and his vents cascading heated air in moments.    
  


“You don’t have to just let him fuck you, you know.” Saladin purred in his ear, making him gasp static for a moment as Shaxx made an indignant noise. “He’s tighter than you’d think. If you’d like a turn, I’m sure we can share. Since we were rude enough to start without you.”    
“I like him fucking me,” he’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t appeal, though, and Shaxx’s breath hitched like maybe he approved too, “maybe next time.”   
Saladin chuckled softly, his hand wandering back down Banshee’s chest and abdomen to swat Shaxx away from his thighs, barely skirting his cock. “I can respect that.”   
“Don’t taunt me, Forge.” Shaxx said, the words clearly meant to be commanding but coming out more as a plea.   
“Can I?”   
“Always, beloved, but please, may I have you?” Definitely a plea that time, and Banshee could hardly say no to that. 

“When you ask so nice, of course.” He leaned back a little, his hand going back to brush fingers against where Saladin was hilted inside Shaxx before trailing up over his cock, feeling a faint smear of precum already leaking from his tip. Not enough, of course, but the Risen seemed to have planned for that and Saladin pressed a bottle into his hand that he was sure hadn’t been there before. Ghosts really were wonderful beings.

He probably should have taken a little more time over it, but in the moment a couple of quick strokes with the lube before sliding himself straight onto Shaxx’s shaft seemed like the best idea in the world. It didn’t hurt as such, but his vocaliser shorted out for a moment and he nearly headbutted Saladin as his mouth fell open and he arched his back at the overwhelming sensation. It felt like Shaxx would split him in two in the best way, and the deep vibration of his voice as he moaned in pleasure only made it even better.   
  
The sound was echoed by Saladin, the hand on Banshee’s thigh gripping harder and warming against his plating. He took a moment to adjust and Shaxx’s hand found his waist, and he opened his eyes to find the helmet focused on him. “Are you alright, did you hurt yourself?”   
“No… no, no, it felt good, it’s a lot. I could do more.” The moment the words left his mouth he knew he’d had a terrible idea, but the sudden thought of  _ both _ of them made him shudder all over and squeeze around Shaxx, making the Warlord’s hips twitch and Banshee spit static.    
“Light…” Shaxx breathed, and Banshee felt Saladin press against his back a little more firmly. Both of them seemed to have picked up on what he was implying. “Do you want more?” 

He could say no. He probably should say no. Each of them on their own was strong enough to tear him apart. “Please…” He twisted around in Saladin’s grasp, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, “if you want to.”   
“I’m willing to try.” Saladin kissed his cheek, oddly and unexpectedly tender, and Banshee felt him shift behind him. Shaxx gasped and pushed himself up a little to nuzzle his other cheek, clearly feeling left out.    
  
With the first press of Saladin’s cock against his entrance Banshee doubted himself. Alone, he doubted the Iron Lord was bigger than Shaxx, but between the two of them even his Exo body might struggle. He tried to relax, fans spinning, but he found himself gripping Shaxx’s arm as Saladin applied a little more pressure and his head slipped past the first tight ring and into him. The distorted noise he made was loud, and he felt tingling hands on his back stroking and soothing, Shaxx’s voice near his ear telling him how good he felt, admonishing Saladin to be gentle.

He was gentle, but the slow, inch-by-inch slide was like a creeping fire that warmed Banshee from inside and left him sure he was going to burn out a motor somewhere and not even mind. It should have hurt, but the stretch was exquisite and the flex of his fingers against Shaxx’s muscles matched the pulse and stretch as his body accommodated them. It seemed to take forever for Saladin to seat himself inside him, and when he did he had to take a moment to just breathe, his breath hot against Banshee’s neck as his hands stroked up his chest, trembling ever so slightly against his plating. It was bizarre to feel this stoic, powerful man coming undone against him just from this, and he shivered as Shaxx chuckled shakily in his ear. “Too good for you, Saladin?”

“Sublime. Are you alright, Banshee?” Saladin breathed, his lips brushing Banshee’s neck. Banshee’s eyes flickered closed and he let out a soft, broken whimper but nodded. It was overwhelming, but he was certain he would die if they stopped touching him.    
“Don’t hurt yourself, darling.” Shaxx said, his hand still moving over his back and hips, “we can stop if you need to.”   
“Don’t. Don’t, please, it’s good. I want… please.” He managed, his voice glitching out and skipping as even Shaxx’s breathing shifted the weight of his cock inside him and pressed on new and exciting sensors. Shaxx nuzzled against his neck and reached past him, groping for Saladin’s ass and pulling him in to make them both gasp again. Saladin seemed to understand and drew back as Shaxx let him go and moved as well. They didn’t go far, didn’t dare risk slipping out, but the way they rocked back into him together was enough to short out Banshee’s vision and reduce him to senseless feedback sounds. They filled him completely, dragged against every sensor he had, and his world narrowed to that point of contact that shot sparks through his nerves and filled him with fire.

His world narrowed to a few points of contact; Saladin’s breath on his neck, his hands hot on his chest; Shaxx’s voice barely containing a shout by his ear and his hand holding his hip to guide him as he rocked down on them, the stretch and burn of them as he stuffed himself over and over again and the firm planes of Shaxx’s chest and arm beneath his hands. They had started before him but he soon caught up with them, his fans screaming with effort and his limbs trembling with overstimulation. He could tell they were close, Shaxx’s grip tightening and Saladin’s teeth scraping over his plating as they both fought to hold out the longest. 

In the end, Banshee finished both of them. He came with a sharp burst of static, body clamping down on them hard enough to make Shaxx howl and Saladin nearly crush him in his embrace, a jolt of Arc meeting the Solar burn that threatened to engulf him. Their Light was overwhelming and as it consumed him he felt a second orgasm on the heels of the first that blacked out his vision and had him arching helplessly in their grasp as they spilled together deep inside him, filling him all over again.    
  
He came back to hands on him, holding his jaw and his waist and stroking his back and touching a vent, and voices above his head somewhere.   
“Did we kill him?”   
“I hope not! Wait, he’s waking up. Banshee, can you hear me?”   
He felt too heavy to move, his mind sluggish and blissful. It felt like he was floating a bit, anchored only by those big, callused hands on his plating. “Hrm?”   
“Okay, good. Are you alright?”   
“Mmm.” He let his head lean into the hand on his face and Shaxx’s voice- yes, of course it was, how could he not recognise it?- chuckled quietly.    
“I see, it’s like that is it?”   
“Mmmrrgh.” 

“Is he okay?” The deeper growl of Saladin came from his other side and he shifted into his touch on his back, too. It was pleasant even through the fog of pleasure that clouded him.   
“I think he enjoyed himself.”   
“Mmhmm.”   
“Heh. Well, you locked the door so we have as long as you need. If you want to take a nap on my war table, who am I to begrudge you?”

He’d rather take a nap on Shaxx, but when he tried to articulate that it came out garbled and incomprehensible so he gave up and just shoved his face into the Warlord’s pecs, earning a muffled laugh from Saladin. Banshee took a minute to get his thoughts in order before speaking properly, a little muffled by Shaxx's chest. 

"Probably shouldn't stay here." He mumbled, even though he was very comfortable. "Should get dressed. Maybe go back to your room though, if you're not busy?"

"Of course. We can even take Saladin with us if he feels like it? Are you pleased enough with me to come and cuddle?"

"I think you've made up for being rude." Saladin nodded, even leaned over Banshee's head to kiss Shaxx's helmet. It was odd to see him so relaxed, but strangely endearing, and Banshee couldn't quite resist turning to him and bumping his mouth against Saladin's jaw. 

The Iron Lord seemed a little surprised, but Banshee too earned himself a kiss. "Alright. You've convinced me." He said, and Shaxx chuckled.

"He's very good at that." He remarked and carefully dislodged Banshee to lean him on Saladin for a moment while he dressed. Banshee didn't protest, enjoying his warmth and the fact that Saladin immediately put an arm around him, which was unexpected but very pleasant. He passed him back when Shaxx was done, and by the time Saladin had put his armour back on Banshee had recovered enough to stand and sort himself out. Shirts seemed like too much effort so he just wrapped his scarf around his shoulders, and caught Shaxx looking at him approvingly.

"That's a good look on you." 

"Yeah, well..." He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Guess I kinda figured out you found me hot."

Shaxx snorted and came over to scoop him up, making him yelp. He didn't object though, just cuddled into him.

"Could it be? I've finally found a way to get you to let me pick you up?" Shaxx teased. 

"Just this once."

Saladin followed them as Shaxx strode out of the room, proudly carrying him like some sort of prize as they made their way through the keep to his bedroom. Shaxx had no shame, and somehow it was a little easier not to be embarrassed when he had the surety that someone like that was clearly proud to be with him. And, though he would never admit it, he did feel remarkably safe being carried by someone so big, even when they reached Shaxx’s quarters and he tossed him onto the bed as though he weighed nothing. It took a brief moment for both Risen to shed their armour, the heavy plate disintegrating into motes of light courtesy of their Ghosts, and then Banshee once again found himself between them, tucked beneath Shaxx’s chin while Saladin fit himself against his back with his arm around both of them. He closed his eyes and settled in, finding himself dozing off again almost immediately surrounded by their warmth and the faint, residual glow of their Light, and his last thought before he fell asleep was that he was an incredibly lucky man.


End file.
